


Don't Leave Me Here Alone (But All That's Gone)

by weblesstherains



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Aren't we all though, Gen, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Irondad, NOT STARKER - Freeform, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker is a Mess, Precious Peter Parker, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Has Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, like ew no
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-16 04:29:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28950438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weblesstherains/pseuds/weblesstherains
Summary: “Get out, Peter!” Tony snapped, vaguely aware that his voice was raised beyond what it should be.The hurt look on Peter’s face only made him spiral more. He opened his mouth to say something-- apologize, maybe, try to explain, anything to get that expression off of Peter’s face-- but when he finally managed to gasp in enough air to talk, Peter was gone.--Essentially, Tony freaks out at Peter for putting himself at risk, and inevitably ruins everything.TWs for panic/anxiety attacks, mention of a house fire, discussion of (past) child abuse (but nothing too graphic).
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 27
Kudos: 166





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is my first time using ao3 to post a fic, so forgive me if the formatting is a little weird. Check the summary for trigger warnings.

Peter knew he had screwed up, maybe. Maybe rushing into a burning building to save three kids was reckless, yes, but it wasn’t stupid, like Tony thought it was. Peter had been able to tell- the firefighters wouldn’t get there in time. So could Tony  _ really  _ blame him for compromising his safety to ensure that the kids would get out? The answer, apparently, was yes. Yes he could. 

“But I’m  _ fine. _ ” Peter said, dragging out the word for emphasis. “And what else was I supposed to do?”

“You were  _ supposed  _ to wait for help to come.” Tony gritted out disbelievingly. 

Peter carded his hands through his hair, willing Tony to understand. “They wouldn’t have made it in time.” he elaborated. “I-- I know it was dangerous. It wasn’t an ideal situation. But I did the right thing, and I’m not going to apologize for it.”

“You could have gotten hurt! The building was up in flames, it could have collapsed, you-- you…” Tony trailed off, sucking in a breath in an attempt to control himself. Peter ignored the heavy knot of guilt that settled in his chest, clenching his jaw. 

“So, what?” Peter questioned, “What was I supposed to  _ do,  _ Mr. Stark? Was I just supposed to let innocent kids die because the situation was dangerous? It’s my job to help people, I--”

“Suit.” Tony spat out through gritted teeth. 

Peter stumbled over his words. “I-- I… what?”

“Give me the suit.”

Peter blinked, surprised, before he glared, determination in his stance, “You can’t do that! You promised you wouldn’t do that again--”

That was true, Tony mused, and somewhere he knew that taking away the suit wouldn’t mend the situation, but in the moment he couldn’t bring himself to care. He clenched his jaw and stepped forward, grabbing Peter’s wrist. 

“Peter, give me the suit  _ now,  _ or I swear to God I will--”

“Boss, you appear to be hurting Peter.” FRIDAY interrupted. 

Tony’s eyes snapped up in panic. He glanced at Peter, who winced, glaring up at the place where he knew FRIDAY was watching. 

“What?” Tony asked, his voice wavering slightly.

“I suggest you let go of his wrist to prevent serious bruising.” FRIDAY replied coolly.

Tony pulled his hand away immediately, his eyes widening. He had been  _ hurting  _ Peter? He hadn’t meant to-- he couldn’t even recall holding Peter’s arm roughly. But then he glanced down, and took note of the cuff around his wrist. It had been a prototype he had been testing-- meant to enhance a person’s strength, to be used in situations when he couldn’t access his suit, when he got the notification from Peter’s AI that he was in serious danger. Tony, in his haste to get to his kid, hadn’t bothered to take it off. 

Tony chanced a glance at Peter’s wrist, feeling positively sickened when he saw bruises start to form. They reminded him sharply that his father used to do the same thing. Tony’s breath stuttered.

“Mr.-- Mr. Stark?” Peter asked, sounding apprehensive. 

Tony didn’t reply- he  _ couldn’t  _ reply. He’d threatened to take Peter’s suit, and then…  _ then  _ he’d hurt him. He had hurt Peter. And when Peter had tried to explain the situation, earlier, he hadn’t even stopped his yelling to listen. Great. He’d officially turned into his father. He stumbled back, back, away from Peter, who had reached out a stabilizing hand. 

“No,” he gasped, hand flying to his chest. Breathe.  _ Breathe.  _ He had to breathe, he couldn’t do this in front of the kid. But even that thought-- which usually successfully grounded him whenever he started to lose it in front of Peter-- did nothing. 

“Mr. Stark?” Peter's tone was tinged with alarm, “Are you hurt? What’s wrong? I--”

“Kid,” Tony ground out through clenched teeth, seeing stars as he squeezed his eyes shut, “Leave.”

Okay, maybe that wasn’t the most eloquent way to phrase it, but he didn’t care because he was panicking in front of Peter and he couldn’t  _ breathe,  _ fuck--

“Mr. Stark, don’t-- I don’t--”

“ _ Get out,  _ Peter!” Tony snapped, vaguely aware that his voice was raised beyond what it should be. 

The hurt look on Peter’s face only made him spiral more.

_ No, wait-- _

He opened his mouth to say something-- apologize, maybe, try to explain, anything to get that expression off of the kid's face-- but when he finally managed to gasp in enough air to talk, Peter was gone. 


	2. Chapter 2

Peter slammed the door to his room and flopped ungracefully onto the bottom bunk of his bed. Frustration, guilt, and worry swirled in his gut, making him feel vaguely nauseous. 

How had things gotten so out of hand?

He knew Mr. Stark, knew he had a tendency to mask his panic and worry with anger-- and loathe as he was to admit it, Mr. Stark had had a good reason to be worried after Peter had… well, nearly gotten burned to death. 

That was the thing, though. Beyond the surface level anger at the altercation they’d had, there was the matter of what had happened at the end. Peter frowned, playing it over in his head. Mr. Stark had grabbed his wrist, and it had hurt-- which, like,  _ really  _ didn’t make sense. First, Mr. Stark would never intentionally hurt Peter-- that was a fact, inarguable despite the ugly blue and green marks that marred his wrist. And Mr. Stark had seemed incredulous when FRIDAY had suggested that he was harming Peter, which had ended up spiraling into… Peter wasn’t exactly sure what. A panic attack, kind of, but there wasn’t an obvious cause. Maybe that had been the last straw in what had already been a difficult day? 

Peter stood up, feeling the need to move.

And then.

Then Mr. Stark had yelled at Peter to get out. And Peter had bolted moments later, embarrassed by the tears stinging in his eyes and heavy with the knowledge that Mr. Stark hadn’t wanted him there. He’d left and taken the subway home, his mind swirling with _get out get out get out_ and Mr. Stark’s furious, disappointed face. And it hurt, thinking about it hurt because disappointing him again was the last thing Peter had wanted to do, but it seemed it was all he _could do--_

Peter’s harried pacing froze as he registered his phone buzzing frantically on his desk. He hesitated for a moment--  _ what if it was Mr. Stark--  _ then swallowed harshly and picked it up, checking the caller ID. Peter wasn’t sure if he could handle talking to Mr. Stark right now.

“Hey, May,” he said, hoping he sounded semi-normal, as he pressed accept call.

“Peter, honey,” May responded hurriedly, “I’m so sorry, I know we were supposed to do Thai and a movie tonight, but it turns out I have to stay for the overnight shift.”

“Oh,” Peter’s shoulders slumped. He’d been looking forward to the distraction. “Um, okay, that’s fine.”

“We can do it tomorrow, okay?” May’s tone was apologetic, “Listen, I know you can handle yourself, but since it’s Friday, do you want to stay over somewhere else so that you don’t get bored alone? I know Ned’s out of town right now, but I can call and ask Tony if--”

“No!” Peter said emphatically, before registering that his response would probably make May suspicious. “I, I mean, I just…”

“Did something happen between you and Tony, honey?” May asked, sounding confused.

“Um,” Peter hesitated, “No. No, everything’s fine, May, I just have a lot of homework to get started on, and maybe I could catch up on some shows or something…?” 

He couldn’t tell May what had happened, he realized, because then she’d freak out over him running into a burning building and she’d probably be angry at Mr. Stark too. 

“Okay, if you’re sure…” May trailed off then, sounding doubtful, and Peter made up some excuse about having to go, hoping he didn’t sound too hasty to end the conversation. 

Everything after that was a blur of homework and dinner and Star Trek episodes that he’d already watched, trying to distract himself from the fact that Mr. Stark was disappointed in him and wanted the suit back and he didn’t know what else--

Because Peter had just started settling into his new routine, with lab days every week and the occasional weekends spent at the Tower, with the new knowledge that Mr. Stark wasn’t just a distant mentor anymore and that maybe,  _ maybe  _ Peter was more than just an intern to Mr. Stark, more than some overenthusiastic kid he had to monitor out of guilt. 

But now? Now Peter felt himself being unsure about all of it. Part of him was still angry, but worse, he was worried. Last time they’d had an argument this bad, Mr. Stark had taken the suit and all but refused to speak to Peter for months. He was hoping that this time around they were closer, that it’d be easier to fix the fallout, but a niggling doubt wore away in Peter’s head that something about the situation was worse this time. Maybe this time Peter wouldn’t be able to make it up to him-- and, and--

_ And you left. _

Maybe that’s what was bothering him most. Mr. Stark had been in the middle of a  _ panic attack,  _ for god’s sake, of course he’d snapped at Peter. But instead of seeing past that and trying to help him, Peter had run out of the room blinking back tears like a little kid, and it had been selfish and stupid and wrong of him. 

Self hatred and worry bubbled up in Peter’s chest and he swallowed, glancing out of the window. He was tempted to just go now, take the subway back to the Tower and fix this mess, but he was scared. Scared of Mr. Stark taking the suit back, rejecting him-- and that would be final, because Peter didn’t think he could bear to face him again after that. 

Also, it was freezing and stormy outside, and if May heard that Peter had traveled fifteen miles in that kind of weather at night she would probably have his head. 

Peter sat down heavily on his bed, fiddling with his phone. Usually, he’d be over at the Tower right now, working together in the lab or watching a movie, Tony’s arm casually thrown over Peter’s shoulder and Peter relishing in the closeness. To Peter he wasn’t just Tony Stark anymore-- Iron Man, billionaire, egotistical genius. Now he was Mr. Stark, who laughed at Peter’s stupid science puns and listened to his ideas and helped him with Calculus homework. Who maybe wasn’t as perfect as Peter had thought but he didn’t care because he was Mr. Stark and he was there for Peter and that was enough. Peter no longer felt jittery in Mr. Stark’s presence, worried he’d mess up or say something dumb-- instead, Mr. Stark’s closeness provided a steady comfort. But now-- now the nerves were back, and Peter really, really didn’t want to lose another-- lose Mr. Stark. 

Peter swallowed. Maybe he should just... he glanced down at his phone, and before he could let himself overthink it, he opened Mr. Stark’s contact and called him. He needed to talk to him, needed to make sure that everything would be okay even though they’d screwed up. 

The phone rang out.

Peter clenched his jaw, attempting to keep his panic at bay. Mr. Stark  _ always  _ picked up. After the Vulture incident, he was so paranoid about missing Peter’s calls that he’d pick up regardless of his situation-- in the middle of an important SI meeting, while he was shaving, or one time, weirdly enough, in the Oval Office with the exasperated President sitting in the background.

But now… now Mr. Stark wasn’t even shooting him a text to make sure everything was okay. 

That was it, Peter decided. He didn’t care how much he’d messed up. He refused to lose Mr. Stark. So, plan B. He pulled his coat on, hoping that May wouldn’t freak out too much if she found out, and walked out onto the street, shivering in the cold night wind as he set off towards the Upper East Side. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here you have it! To be honest, I'm not sure if I'm 100% satisfied with how this turned out, but I needed a chapter in Peter's perspective. It was kind of hard to write almost an entire chapter just with mental dialogue, but I think I did okay and the next chapter should be back to. Like. Actual conversation. (unless I decide to change my plot layout)  
> There should be 1-2 chapters left until the end of the story! It might be a bit longer until I update again because I've been putting off my school work all weekend and now I'm kind of drowning in it, but we'll see.   
> As always, please leave kudos and comment :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TWs are in the story summary! Enjoy the chapter :)

Howard had never been an overly physical person with anyone. His whole life he’d dealt mostly in words, and this same tendency carried over to his interactions with Tony. He’d berate and belittle him until he ran out of air, but Tony could only remember a handful of times where his father had seriously hurt him. Sometimes he’d walk out of Howard’s office with more than a pinched expression on his face-- a red mark on his cheek to join it, or, more often, a ring of bruises around his wrist where Howard had gripped a touch too tightly. Maybe a few more bruises and the occasional cut if it was a particularly bad day, but that was exceedingly rare. 

And Tony was… well. Tony had been trying to break the cycle, had been trying to do better with Peter because Peter was the last person who should have to go through what Tony had. Words were difficult, and sometimes Tony slipped up and made remarks that were too cutting, he knew that, but he did his best to keep his attitude in check around Peter and-- for the most part-- he thought he’d been doing okay. Words were slippery and evasive and sometimes Tony didn’t realize how much his could hurt. He allowed himself a little bit of leeway, a little room to learn how to communicate with Peter well.

But hurting Peter physically? That had  _ always  _ been entirely out of the question. Tony had vowed he would never touch Peter the way his father had touched him, cold and cruel and hurting for hours after Tony had inevitably stormed away from Howard. He tried his best to do the opposite with the kid, casually throwing an arm over Peter’s shoulder and feeling a smile twitch at his lips when Peter leaned into the touch. And in that aspect he’d never faltered.

Until now.

Tony slumped against the counter, hand shaking as he dragged it across his face.  _ God,  _ he couldn’t-- the way the kid had looked at him as Tony’d yelled at him to leave, hurt and confused and completely betrayed, eyes glassy and wrist covered in bruises. He’d spun on his heel and left hurriedly (Tony couldn’t blame him for not being able to stand the thought of being around him any longer). 

Tony was certain he wouldn’t come back. Peter had May and Ned and that scary girl who Peter vehemently denied he had a crush on. He didn’t  _ need _ Tony for anything beyond the suit, and despite what Tony had said earlier, he had no intention of taking it away again. Sure, Peter probably enjoyed their movie nights and lab days, but after what had happened, the idea of Peter still wanting to spend time around Tony-- especially alone-- was completely unfathomable. 

If it had gone differently, if Tony had screwed up a little less, he would be tempted to go talk to Peter, would attempt to fix things. And as much as Tony  _ wanted  _ to, because the thought of losing the kid hurt like hell, Peter didn’t deserve to be stuck with him. Tony blinked back a sudden stinging in his eyes, swallowing harshly. It was fine. He’d keep tabs on the kid to make sure he was okay, and that would have to be enough because Tony clearly wasn’t cut out to be a mentor figure, and definitely not anything more--

“Boss?” FRIDAY inquired, interrupting Tony’s scattered thoughts.

“I told you to  _ mute,  _ FRI--”

“Peter is requesting access to the penthouse.”

The only response Tony could come up with to  _ that  _ was “Huh?”

“Peter is--”

“No, I heard you.” Tony swallowed thickly, “Peter’s  _ here?” _

“Yes, boss.”

Tony’s head was spinning. This didn’t make any sense, Peter didn’t want to see him.  _ “Why?” _

Maybe-- maybe he’d just forgotten something that he’d need for school, or...

“While I am essentially all-knowing, you did not program me to read minds,” FRIDAY supplied snarkily, “Would you like me to ask Peter--?”

“No, no, I’ll just,” Tony dragged a hand across his face. He’d managed to restrain himself from drinking, but he doubted he appeared even remotely collected, and he didn’t want Peter to see him like this. “Tell him to leave.”

A pause.

“Peter does not seem inclined to follow those instructions,” FRIDAY sounded vaguely amused, “He claims he needs to talk to you.”

Yeah, so he hadn’t forgotten anything. Not that Tony was banking on that being the case anyways.

“Well, that’s unfortunate, because--” Tony cut himself off, his eyes widening. “Wait, is he, is he hurt?”

“He does not appear to be injured.” Tony let out a breath. “However, Peter is exhibiting very early signs of hypothermia, likely due to his decreased ability to thermoregulate.”

“What-- how did he even get hypothermia in the  _ first place _ , it’s not even that cold--”

“It is forty degrees and raining, boss, and since Peter presumably walked here--”

“ _ Shit.”  _ Tony swallowed. He should have known that his plan to keep the kid at arm’s length wouldn’t last long. Panic knotted below his ribcage as he braced a hand against the kitchen counter. “Yeah-- yeah, okay, let him in.”

Tony heard the brief whirring of the elevator before the doors slid open and Peter stepped into the penthouse.

They both stood frozen, the penthouse silent other than the quiet dripping sounds Peter’s clothes were making as water landed on the floor, and Tony felt his mouth grow dry and his breathing hitch, he just wanted to  _ get out-- _

“Um, hi.” Peter’s hand rose up in a brief wave, his lips quirking at the edges in a poor attempt at a smile. Tony was suddenly aware of the blue tinge in Peter’s lips and how much he was shaking.

“Jesus, Peter, it’s fucking freezing outside, what were you  _ thinking?”  _ The words slipped past Tony’s lips thoughtlessly, tone harsher than he’d intended it to be. 

Peter blinked, looking slightly taken aback. “Well, I mean, I tried to call you, but you wouldn’t pick up, and then, I just, I don’t know, I--”

“Yeah, well, if I didn’t pick up, it’s because I  _ didn’t want to talk to you,  _ did you not get the hint?”

Peter glanced down, hiding his expression and looking about ten times smaller, and Tony sucked in a ragged breath.  _ Fuck.  _ “Kid, I didn’t-- I didn’t mean that.” he paused. “Look, now’s not a good time, I’m gonna call Happy and have him take you home--”

Peter’s head jerked back up. “No.” he responded firmly, “No, I want to do this now.”

Tony’s eyebrows flew up, and he blinked, momentarily silenced by Peter’s determination. He didn’t think he’d ever heard the kid so steadfast in his position. 

“Listen,” he said after a pause, attempting to regain some control in the situation, “Go up to your room and change, you’re dripping all over my floor.”

Peter’s cheeks tinged with pink. “Oh, um, yeah, okay.” He turned and hurried up the stairs, and Tony slumped back against the bar counter, bringing a hand over his face and counting his breaths until they stabilized.  _ I want to do this now,  _ Peter had said, looking determined and almost… almost angry. So that was it, then. Peter was-- understandably-- done putting up with Tony. And Tony hated that he was surprised by that. It was just that it was  _ Peter,  _ Peter who forgave everyone and believed in second chances and maybe Tony had just hoped, despite his decision to keep Peter at arm’s length again--

_ But he did give you a second chance,  _ Tony realized dully. Peter had forgiven him after the shitshow that was the ferry incident, after Tony had taken the suit and it had nearly cost Peter his  _ life.  _

Tony breathed in sharply, pushing off of the counter and crossing his arms as he heard Peter pad back down the stairs. 

Peter paused at the bottom of the stairs, glancing at Tony before descending the rest of the way and facing him. Peter was wearing Tony’s old MIT sweatshirt that he had all but given him, fiddling with one of the drawstrings, and Tony swallowed, clenching his jaw. This was not the kind of conversation where he could let his walls down. 

Peter seemed to register the change in Tony’s expression, and he paused, opening his mouth to speak and then shutting it again.

“Spit it out, kid,” Tony said, doing his best to keep his expression neutral, “I don’t have all day.”

“Right,” Peter replied, clearing his throat awkwardly, “Okay, so, I’m gonna talk now, and just-- let me finish, please?”

Tony raised his eyebrows, expression cool and neutral, as his heart hammered in his chest.

Peter glanced down. “Look, I just…” he paused, and Tony saw him blinking harshly. “I’m  _ sorry, _ Mr. Stark, okay?”

Tony blinked. “What?”

“Just-- just hear me out?” Peter sounded desperate now, and Tony shut his mouth, mind reeling. “I know what I did seemed reckless, but I honestly didn’t have another option. I would have taken it, if I did! But there were kids up in the building and Karen told me that it was getting really bad in there and the firefighters were still five minutes out, there wasn’t time for me to wait. You think I don’t listen to you, but I  _ do,  _ Mr. Stark, I promise I do, it’s just that sometimes I’m going to be in situations like that and I’m going to have to risk my life--”

“Kid--”

“No, wait, I just,” Peter sucked in a shaky breath, and Tony’s heart clenched.

“I need you to understand that because I really hate fighting with you, but we fought today and then I left while you were having, like, a panic attack or something, and I’m really sorry, I should’ve stayed and tried to help, but we can’t,” Peter’s voice gave out momentarily and he blinked harshly, “We can’t keep doing this, Mr. Stark.” 

“I know.” Tony replied, voice steady as he took a step forward, “Which is why I asked you to leave--”

“Wait, what?” Peter sounded vaguely panicked. “That’s not what I meant--”

“Kid, look,” Tony snapped, grasping at his left wrist and trying to even out his breathing, “We tried this, okay, but it isn’t working--”

“Mr. Stark, no, please--” Peter looked teary now, and Tony felt positively sickened.  _ He did this. _

“I won’t-- take the suit this time, okay?” Tony glanced away, “It’s yours, you can keep it, just don’t go turning all Darth Vader at me or something--”

“I don’t care about the suit!” Peter yelled, voice cracking, and Tony stared, composure lost. 

“I don’t care about the suit,” Peter repeated, quieter, “That’s not why I’m here. I want to-- I need to fix whatever I did wrong earlier, because we can move past this--”

“No, we can’t, so stop trying--”

“ _ Why not _ \--”

“Because I hurt you!” Tony shouted, self-loathing blooming in his chest and any semblance of control lost.

“You mean this?” Peter held his wrist up, and in the dim light Tony could see that the bruises were almost healed. It didn’t help. “That was an accident, Mr. Stark, I know you wouldn’t hurt me--”   
“Oh really?” Tony gritted out, “Because if I’m remembering correctly, I definitely did.”

“But it wasn’t on purpose--”

“Peter, just  _ leave--” _

“But I don’t  _ care  _ about that--”

“We’re done here.” Tony raised his voice over Peter’s, holding his head high. “This is my tower, you need to  _ listen to me  _ before I rescind your access and security clearance--”

“Tony,” Peter’s voice was suddenly small and scared, and Tony stopped talking, stunned. “Tony,  _ please. _ ”

Something inside of Tony splintered. Fuck, he couldn’t do this. Not with the kid calling him Tony (he hadn’t called him that before, not  _ once _ ) and sounding so incredibly vulnerable.

“Kid,” Tony started, horrified when his voice wavered, “Kid. Peter. I  _ hurt  _ you, okay, and I thought I could break the cycle, be better for you, but I  _ can’t.  _ I’m all-- screwed up--” those were tears gathering in his eyes,  _ fuck,  _ “-- and you don’t deserve to deal with that. I don’t know what you want me to be for you, but I’m just not-- I can’t be that, okay?”

“You’re wrong,” Peter’s voice was shaky, but sure, and Tony shook his head. “You are. You  _ are  _ better, you’re amazing--”

“That’s not true--”

“Did he ever apologize for hurting you?”   
Tony froze.

“Did he ever even feel  _ bad _ ?” 

For a moment, Peter had looked nervous, but now his voice was gaining conviction. “You think you’re like him, but you’re not, not at all, you make me feel safe and happy and lov--”

Peter cut himself off, cheeks red, suddenly unsure again. “And loved,” he finished finally, swallowing. “You said, you told me once, that he never told you he loved you. And maybe-- maybe you haven’t said it, either, but you don’t need to. It shows, and I can tell you care and I know you would never, ever hurt me intentionally.”

Tony just stood silent, stunned, and Peter seemed to grow increasingly anxious.

“That was… presumptuous, Mr. Stark, I didn’t mean to… to…” Peter exhaled shakily. “Maybe I didn’t-- I can go.” 

He started backing away, and Tony almost let him, but--  _ that’s what his father would have done.  _

And suddenly Tony couldn’t fathom the idea of letting Peter think he meant any less to Tony than he did. “Peter, wait,” slipped through his lips unbidden, but the next words got stuck in his throat. “I do,” he said finally, lamely, cursing his inability to be better, but Peter looked at him like he’d hung the stars.

“I love you too, Mr. Stark,” he replied, and Peter’s eyes were teary but his smile was genuine. 

“So, so…” Peter hesitated, “Are we-- good?”

Tony sucked in a breath. “You think I’m better than I am,” he stated bluntly, stalling as two responses warred in his head. “I’m not good for you.”

“That’s not true,” Peter responded fiercely, shaking his head, “You  _ are  _ good for me, and I know you can’t see it, but…” he paused. “I was a mess before, okay? I was spiralling and, yeah, Spider-Man gave me purpose, but I was missing…”

_ Ben,  _ Tony filled in mentally,  _ he’d just lost Ben.  _

“I was missing something,” Peter continued, biting his lip. “I had May and Ned and MJ but… and you don’t replace Ben, obviously, you know that, but, um…” 

Peter’s breathing hitched and stuttered as he trailed off, and Tony realized suddenly that Peter was crying. “Peter,” he called softly, refusing to let himself overthink it, “Come here.” 

Peter took a few small steps forward, and once he was within arms reach, Tony pulled him into a hug. Peter stood stiff for a moment, surprised, and Tony almost pulled away, his heart beating furiously in his chest. He’d overstepped. But then Peter melted into Tony’s hold, fisting the back of Tony’s sweater in his hands as he breathed in shakily.

“I-- I can’t lose you too, Tony, Mr. Stark, please,” Peter’s voice was frantic and stumbling as he choked on a sob and Tony pulled him closer, something in his chest aching. He glanced up and sniffed, unsure. Was leaving even an option anymore? Was it ever? Tony had rules, walls he’d put in place decades ago, but then Peter had come and broken through them one by one. And while it might have been feasible half a year ago, abandoning Peter now would be… heartless. Cruel. The kind of thing Tony’s father might do. Not to mention, Tony thought as he ran a hand through Peter’s hair, that he was fairly certain  _ he  _ wouldn’t be able to cope without Peter. Somehow, in seven short months, Peter had become one of the few people Tony couldn’t imagine living without, right next to Rhodey and Pepper.

“You won’t,” he found himself reassuring, promising, as Peter burrowed his face in Tony’s shoulder, “You won’t, Roo, I’m sorry, I’m here, it’s okay.” The nickname slipped past his lips unnoticed as he focused on Peter, who was taking deep breaths in an attempt to calm himself. Deciding to move to the couch, Tony started to pull back, and Peter jumped back quickly, wiping his face and averting his eyes.

“I-- I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t mean to--”

“Hey, what did I say about calling me sir?” Tony teased gently, looping his fingers around the cuff of Peter’s hoodie sleeve and tugging him forward. “I’m just moving us to the couch. We’re gonna finish figuring this out.” 

Tony sat down and Peter followed his lead, keeping distance from Tony and sitting stiffly at the edge, looking down at his hands clasped in his lap. 

Tony raised an eyebrow. “Well, that’s not going to work.” He tugged Peter next to him and relaxed back onto the couch. Peter paused for a second, unsure, then melted into Tony’s hold, tucking his head under Tony’s chin. Tony wrapped an arm around Peter’s shoulders, cursing his commitment issues for stopping them from doing this sooner. Sure, he’d given Peter back pats and hair ruffles and quick side hugs, but they’d definitely never done this before. He sighed.

“I’m not good at this, so bear with me,” he started, “Let’s… take this one topic at a time. Where do you want to start?”

“Um,” Peter sniffed, “Why did you… what…” he let out a huff, frustrated, then lifted his wrist up. Tony’s stomach twisted in guilt.

“That was an accident, Peter, I promise,” he said quickly. “I was testing out a new strength enhancer bracelet when I got the alert about what had happened and I forgot about it.”

“So then…” Tony could hear the confusion in Peter’s voice, “I mean, I knew it was an accident, I know you wouldn’t hurt me, but then why did you get so freaked out about it?”

Tony snorted. “I didn’t  _ freak out about it _ .” 

Peter pulled back momentarily and gave him a look.

“Okay, okay.” Tony swallowed. “I just… I’ve told you before that my dad wasn’t the greatest. He… used to do shit like that and I’ve been trying to break the cycle with you--” Tony registered what he’d just implied, and his eyes widened. “-- not that I’m saying that I’m your… your…”

“It’s okay, Mr. Stark.”

Tony blinked. “It is?”

“Yeah,” Peter said simply. “I do… I do kinda see you that way.”

“Oh.” Tony felt his eyes sting again, but this time it was for such a vastly different reason. God, he couldn’t… this kid--  _ his  _ kid… 

“I swear, Peter, you’d better at least start calling me Tony now.”

Peter giggled wetly. “Okay, Mr. Stark.”

Tony scowled. 

“Anyways,” he cleared his throat, “I’ve been trying to break the cycle, and then I just really fucked everything up earlier,  _ again,  _ and I just… got scared. I guess. I was scared. For you, earlier, too, I mean, and then I took it out on you. And I’m sorry.” The apology was quiet and stilted, but genuine. Tony’d be damned if he’d let his dad’s inadequacies affect his relationship with Peter again. 

“It’s okay,” Peter replied immediately, and Tony huffed out an exasperated breath. The kid was too forgiving.

“No, seriously,” Peter insisted, “I get what you’re saying. And you… didn’t have a good example to go off of after you met me. It’s a learning curve, right? And I don’t think we’ve been that great at communication on either end, especially with Spider-Man stuff.”

Tony snorted. “Yeah, you could say that.” He felt Peter take a deep breath in against his chest.

“Okay, so…” Peter bit his lip. “I feel like maybe you need to trust me more to take care of myself.”

“What you need to  _ do  _ is be more careful,” Tony replied immediately, his voice raising slightly and frustration sparking in his stomach. He felt Peter start to pull away, and he swallowed, pressing Peter back against his chest. He took a breath. “Okay, I wasn’t listening to you. You’re right.”

“Thank you,” Peter hesitated, “I know you want me to be safe and you get worried, and that’s why you’re so… hypervigilant about this. But I already  _ am  _ careful, as much as I can be when…”

“When you’re a teenager swinging around in a onesie fighting crime?” Tony suggested, lips twitching when he felt Peter laugh quietly into his shoulder. 

“It’s not a onesie, Mr. Stark. But yeah. I’m just… not sure how to meet you halfway without sacrificing people who need help. If I hadn’t done what I did today, those kids probably wouldn’t be alive.”

“But what if something went wrong?” Tony could feel the shift in the conversation as it steered towards a topic he tried his best not to think about. “What if something had happened to  _ you,  _ Peter?”   
“That’s… that’s just how it is.”

Tony started to shake his head, but Peter kept talking. “The risk comes with the job, Mr. Stark, you know that.”

“I know,” Tony said slowly, “But I can’t live with that. If something happens to you…” he swallowed past the lump in his throat, “You’re my… my kid, Peter, I can’t look at it like that. Even if I know you’re being as careful as you can be, I’m not going to stop worrying. It’s not because I don’t trust you to handle yourself. I know you can, but something could still happen. Something  _ could’ve _ happened today, and…” Suddenly it was impossibly hard to breathe. Chest and eyes burning, Tony tipped his head up, trying to get himself back under control, trying to get the images of Peter lying listlessly on the ground out of his head.

“Hey, Mr. Stark.” Peter shifted, looking up at Tony. “I’m here, I’m okay.” 

Tony swallowed harshly, clenching his eyes shut and burrowing his face in Peter’s hair, feeling vaguely embarrassed but not quite present enough to process it. Peter wrapped his arms around Tony in response. 

“I’ll try to be more careful,” Peter said quietly as Tony grounded himself. “But I can’t just… run away every time something gets dangerous.”

“...I know,” Tony replied slowly, “Okay, we’re gonna… we’re gonna work on the suit tomorrow. The protocols need updating and I could probably work on overall security. We’re gonna need to agree on how you’re going to respond in certain situations, like the one today, and…” Tony paused, taking a breath, “I’m going to work on not freaking out when I get worried so that you feel comfortable calling me when a situation gets out of hand.”

“I can handle the situations fine on my own--”

“I don’t doubt you can,” Tony cut Peter off, needing to get his point across, “But sometimes it gets iffy and your safety gets compromised, and then I need you to contact me.”

Peter stayed silent for a moment, and Tony could tell he wasn’t too thrilled about the idea.

“Look, it’s… this isn’t some weird power imbalance. We’re working together. This is how it works on a team.”

“Yeah, but you’re gonna try to tell me what to do and then you’ll get mad if I don’t listen,” Peter said, his voice slightly snappish.

“I’m not going to let you walk into a death trap, sorry.” Tony took a breath, trying to keep his voice level, “I’ll try to step back when I can, but if I’m telling you to do something you need to listen. We... can figure out the specifics tomorrow.”

“Okay.” Peter sounded reluctant, but he let the subject drop. Tony felt him take a shaky breath.

“You okay?” he checked, glancing down.

“Yeah,” Peter replied after a moment, “I’m sorry I freaked out earlier, I just… I got scared because you kept telling me to leave and nothing I said was working and it was like you didn’t even _care_ , you were acting so off and I-- I know you care, but I just got so _scared_ , Mr. _Stark_ \--”

Peter’s voice was pleading and choked and Tony didn’t think he could listen to it for another second without breaking down.

“Kid,” Tony cut in, swallowing past the lump in his throat, “You don’t need to apologize. I…” 

Discomfort rose up in his chest, and he pushed away the sudden urge to move away from Peter.  _ Don’t do that.  _ Tony screwed his eyes shut.

“At first I thought you were going to tell me that you were done with me--”

“ _ What? _ ”

“-- and I handled the situation badly when I realized that wasn’t what was happening,” Tony admitted. “I tried to push you away so that I could get some semblance of… control in the situation. And I thought you’d be better off.” Tony scoffed self-deprecatingly. “Obviously it wasn’t the smartest thing I’ve done.” 

They sat silently for a minute, and while Peter seemed to calm down, Tony felt like something heavy had settled in his chest.

Peter pulled back slightly, looking Tony in the eyes. “You know now I’m not gonna do that, right? Leave?”

“‘Course not,” Tony replied, forcing his voice to stay light, “I’m Tony Stark, the real deal, and you have full access to my labs and my money. I mean, you would be crazy to even consider--”

Peter raised his eyebrows. “ _ Mr. Stark. _ ”

Tony cleared his throat. “You know, you’ve almost got Pepper’s don’t-bullshit-me look down, that’s pretty impressive, although she usually--”

“Mr. Stark, I’m serious,” Peter cut through Tony’s stumbling attempt to evade the subject, “I’m not going anywhere. And by the way, the labs and the suit and the fancy tech are cool, but they’re not important to me.  _ You’re  _ what’s important to me. You could lose everything else and I wouldn’t care as long as you’re here. ” He paused. “Actually, I’m kind of insulted that you would even think otherwise in the first place.”

Tony stared for a second, stunned. 

“So basically, you’re stuck with me forever now,” Peter finished, settling back into his original position against Tony. Tony sniffed, glancing to the side and wondering if there was a way to discreetly wipe his eyes. The weight on his chest lifted. 

“Well, good, because you’re stuck with me too, you little shit,” Tony grumbled halfheartedly, a smile twitching at his lips as he wrapped an arm around Peter. Peter laughed softly in response and Tony felt something warm settle in his chest.  _ His kid.  _ Yeah, they would be fine. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's definitely been way too long since I've updated, sorry. This just ended up being a really long chapter and I've been busy with a lot of other things. But here it is! The final installment.   
> Please let me know what you think, especially regarding the characterization! I haven't written Tony and Peter before, so I was kind of flying blind and I could definitely use tips.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave kudos and comment! Feel free to leave critical feedback, I'm always open to suggestions.


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